by Sherwin Bitsui

Downwind from the body’s yellow teeth,

children whisper night—

amniotic clouds of car exhaust

foaming to a lather above them.

They are later found deboned—

plucked from the narrowing fi eld—

ears pulled back,

a nation growling into them

as they scrape double-plumed birdsongs

from the beaks of drowned hummingbirds

and smash them into eagle-bone whistles

then ringlets of fire

then the blood of orphaned lambs.

from Flood SongFind it in the library

Copyright © 2009 Sherwin Bitsui
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, Inc.
on behalf of Copper Canyon Press.